Nightmares
by MoonGoddess09
Summary: Dramione from Draco's POV. Set end of war/post-war. As always, I take great liberties with the plot.
1. Chapter 1

I don't want to do this anymore. I can't sleep; I can't eat. Aunt Bellatrix forces me to practice Occlumency and Dark Arts spells every day for hours. The Dark Lord threatened my family because I failed to complete my mission. I'm just waiting for the day he kills me. There's nothing I can do.

There's a disturbance in the courtyard, yelling and clanging. The front door opens, my father demands to know what's going on, and I hear my mother say, "They say they've got Potter."

My heart starts pounding. The Dark Lord is going to come back. If the others are with Potter...he's going to make me kill them.

"Draco, come here!"

I slowly push myself from an armchair and walk over to the crowd. Potter is the first person I see, but he's obviously been hit by Stinging Jinx. His face is huge, pink, and distorted.

"Well, Draco?" Father asks. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

I don't want to look at him. He's not meeting my eyes either. "I can't-I can't be sure."

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" I've never heard him sound so excited. "Draco, if we're the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven."

But I shrink back as he moves closer to Potter. "There's something there. It could be a scar, stretched tight...Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

I do as I'm told and pretend to look. "I don't know," I say, and walk back toward my mother at the fireplace.

"Well, what about the Mudblood then?" Greyback growls.

No.

"Wait," Mother says sharply. "Yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the _Prophet_! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

"I...I don't know."

"But then that's the Weasley boy!" Father says. "Arthur Weasley's son!"

The drawing room door opens. "What is this? What's happened, Cissy?"

I hold my breath as Aunt Bellatrix walks over to Hermione and stares at her. "But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" Father yells. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends caught at last!"

She cheers in jubilation and I cringe as she throws back her sleeve. Just before she touches the Mark, she stops, her eyes fixed on something across the room.

Everyone turns as she storms towards Greyback. "Where did you get this sword?" she demands, pulling it from the pile next to him and forcing him to his knees.

He bares his pointed teeth at her. "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword?" She brandishes it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent. Release me, I say!"

She does, but paces, examining the sword and muttering to herself. "We have a very serious problem."

Before anyone can ask, she turns to Greyback. "Take these prisoners to the cellar and make sure they're secure, but do nothing to them...yet."

He turns, but she calls him back. "Wait. All except for the Mudblood."

Greyback's grunt of pleasure turns my stomach as Aunt Bellatrix pulls a short silver knife from her robes and drags Hermione into the middle of the room. When I hear Greyback croon, "Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" I think I might vomit.

" _Crucio_!" Aunt Bellatrix screams, and Hermione screams as well. "Where did you get this sword?"

She apparently doesn't answer fast enough. " _Crucio_! I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"

"We found it-we found it-PLEASE!"

"Where? _Crucio_! Where?"

"In the forest. In the forest." Her voice drops to a whisper.

Aunt Bellatrix kneels down and brandishes the knife. "You're lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth!"

Hermione's screams echo off the walls and cut through my core as Aunt Bellatrix carves into her skin with the knife. I want to look away, but I can't, not without raising suspicion. Instead, I force my mind back to our first year at Hogwarts, to when we first met. I had pitied her-alone, teased, bullied-but I knew my father and friends would kill me if I talked to her. But she was smart...and kind...and pretty... She made me question everything I had been taught about Muggleborns. The hate came easily after she befriended Potter and Weasley, and more easily still after my father spent every single moment between my first and second years berating me and abusing me for having lower marks than a Mudblood, and then for being "too eager" to talk to her at the beginning of my second year. A nagging voice in the back of my head kept telling me to stop, but I drowned it out.

"It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

Hermione's screams jerks me out of my memories and I can't take my eyes off the blood dripping from the carved letters on her arm. _Mudblood_.

Aunt Bellatrix steps back to cast another Cruciatus Curse, and Hermione's eyes meet mine, pleading. I swallow hard, trying to send a mental message. I've watched so many people get tortured and killed that I thought I was numb. I thought I could deal with it. I guess not.

 _I'm sorry._

She holds my gaze as my father screams at me to get the goblin from the cellar. I'm shaking as I make my way down the stairs. Hermione's screaming again, and no amount of mental energy is blocking it out. When we return, I watch Hermione's body go limp at Aunt Bellatrix's feet. All I can do is stare at her until I hear, "And now we will call the Dark Lord!"

I start shaking again as she nudges Hermione's lifeless body with her foot. "And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

No!

"Nooooo!" someone screams, bursting into the room.

Weasley. Jets of light fly and I dive behind the sofa for cover.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

I peer around the edge of the sofa to see Aunt Bellatrix supporting an unconscious Hermione, her knife at her throat.

"Drop your wands," she whispers. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

But Weasley and Potter just stand there, rigid, looking back at her.

"I said drop them!" She presses the blade into Hermione's throat, beads of blood appearing immediately.

I straighten up, grasping the sofa to keep from using my wand, as theirs clatter to the floor.

"Good. Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

Before I can move, there's a dreadful grinding noise from above us and the crystal chandelier begins falling. Aunt Bellatrix throws herself out of the way and it crashes on top of Hermione and the goblin. I'm acutely aware of sharp pain on my face and put my hands up immediately, only to be greeted with blood.

Spells fly again, and someone pulls me out of the way. I hear my mother yell, "Dobby! You! You dropped the chandelier!"

"You must not hurt Harry Potter! Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

Between the blood and the pain, I can barely see, but I hear a loud crack and everyone in the room screaming. Suddenly, everything is quiet and cold penetrates the room. "Where is Harry Potter?"

Nobody speaks.

"Lucius! Where is Harry Potter?"

Still nothing.

"Do not make me ask you again."

"He escaped, my lord." I can barely hear him.

"He WHAT? How did you let this happen?!"

"That bloody House Elf. He came..." His voice trails off.

"Boy!"

I swallow hard. "Yes, my lord?"

"What happened to your face?"

I feel the blood slowly being siphoned off. "I was cut when the chandelier shattered, my lord."

"Can you see?"

I open my eyes slowly, the room coming into focus. "Yes, my lord."

"Good." He turns to my father, using an invisible hand to push him to his knees. "I warned you, Lucius."

"My lord, have mercy."

"Mercy! I will show you mercy!" He raises his wand. " _Crucio_!"

This time it's my father's screams echoing through the room, but, surprisingly, they don't cause me pain. I just look straight ahead until they stop.

"Let that be a warning," the Dark Lord says. "I will not be so merciful again."

My mother runs to my father once he disappears. I make my way to my room and stare into my mirror; the only deep cut I have is on my right cheekbone. I lie in bed, my knees up to my chest, and close my eyes. There is no point in trying to sleep; the only image I see is Hermione's unconscious body. Did she even survive? Why do I care? When did I even start thinking of her as Hermione, rather than Granger or Mudblood?

"Year 6," that voice in the back of my head says.

Potions class. Slughorn had threatened us early on: if we completely botched three potions, we were going to be permanently removed from the class. I had already botched two; my mind was on the Dark Lord's mission. All my grades were slipping. I barely slept. If I couldn't repair that Vanishing Cabinet...

I was reading too fast. I had started to stir my potion clockwise when the liquid suddenly started moving counterclockwise. I looked at Hermione, who shared my bench, ready to tell her off, then re-read the instructions. Counterclockwise. I added the last ingredient, turning the potion light blue and earning 5 points for Slytherin.

"Why did you help me?" I whispered as we packed up our belongings, my eyes on my books rather than on her.

"If you get kicked out, I have nobody to compete against," she whispered back, her eyes also cast down.

That had been the end of the conversation, but I had caught her concerned expression more than once and wondered if there was more to it. I buried that question way down, but here it is, bubbling up again.

I reach for the Sleeping Draught hidden under my bed. I don't want to think tonight.

* * *

The Dark Lord summons me. "You have proven unreliable thus far."

I just hang my head; I know he isn't expecting an answer.

"I will allow you one final chance to redeem yourself. If you fail again, I will kill you, your father, and your mother."

"I will not fail again, my lord," I reply.

"Harry Potter is returning to Hogwarts."

He outlines my mission, and, before I know it, I'm walking with Crabbe, Goyle, and the other Death Eaters from our apparition destination to Hogwarts. Snippets on conversation float up as we trudge through the grass.

"Torture Longbottom just like I did his parents. See how long he lasts!"

"Wouldn't mind sending a Killing Curse McGonagall's way. That old hag was always busting me."

"I wanna see that oaf Hagrid go down. Probably take a few others with 'im."

"Seeing that smirk wiped off Potter's face would beat any reward. Weasley too."

"I'm hopin' to get my teeth into Miss Mudblood. She's gonna be wishin' for death when I'm done with her!"

I shut my brain down as soon as Greyback starts to describe his plans in great detail. I don't know who around me is skilled in Legilimency.

Once we breach the barriers, Crabbe, Goyle, and I head to the Room of Hidden Things. Sure enough, Potter and his friends are heading inside, talking loudly about a "diadem." They're so intent on their mission that they don't hear us walk up behind them.

"Hold it, Potter," I say.

He skids to a halt and turns around. "Shouldn't you be with Voldemort?"

"We're gonna be rewarded," Crabbe says. "We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im."

"How did you get in here?"

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things last year," I reply, trying to keep my voice level. "I know how to get in."

"Harry? Are you talking to someone?"

Weasley. Crabbe whips around and points his wand at a fifty foot mountain of old furniture, broken trunks, old books, and other junk. " _Descendo_!"

The tower starts teetering, the top layer starting to fall.

" _Finite_!" Potter yells as I grab Crabbe's arm to stop him from repeating the spell. "No! If you wreck the room, you might bury this diadem thing!"

He forcefully tugs himself free. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants; who cares about a die-dum?"

I cannot believe how stupid my friends are. "Potter came in here to get it, so that must mean-"

Crabbe cuts me off ferociously. "'Must mean'? Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, _Draco_. You an' your dad are finished."

It takes everything in my power not to curse him as he spins around and aims a Cruciatus Curse at Potter.

"Stop!" I yell, grabbing his arm again. "The Dark Lord wants him alive!"

He throws off my arm again. "I'm not killing him, am I? But if I can, I will. The Dark Lord wants him dead anyway; what's the dif-"

He's cut off by a jet of scarlet light flying past his ear. "It's that Mudblood!" he yells. " _Avada Kedavra_!"

"No!" Potter and I yell together as Hermione dives aside. Potter shoots a spell at Crabbe, which misses.

"Don't kill him!" I yell as both he and Goyle take aim.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" Crabbe yells again, and Potter ducks. The spell hits Goyle straight in the chest and he crumples to the floor.

"No!" I yell again, running over to Goyle. "Crabbe, you idiot!"

"Harry!" Hermione screams.

A roaring, billowing noise warns me of what's coming before I even turn around. "Run!" I yell.

All of us take off. I look back once I get separated from the others, but I can see is fire. It's mutating into a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: serpents, chimaeras, and dragons. I climb a pile of debris as quickly as I can, but there's no escape. Dread climbs up my spine.

I'm going to die.

"Draco!"

I turn around, trying to keep my balance as the pile teeters below me. "Hermione!"

She reaches out her hand and helps me climb onto Potter's broom, then keeps her wand out, clearing a path through the flames until we fly through the door. We crash into the opposite wall and collapse into a heap, coughing and panting. Potter catches his breath first and takes off without a word. Weasley glares at me and forcefully pulls Hermione up; she had landed on top of me. He crashes his lips into hers, staring daggers at me, and I head down the opposite set of stairs, narrowing missing being pelted by Peeves with Snargaluff pods. Everyone's battling below me, and the Death Eaters are actually taking considerable damage.

Yaxley stops me before I reach the landing. "Draco Malfoy. The Dark Lord is most displeased with you."

"Let me by," I reply.

"I don't think so. I'm sick of you, boy. You're a coward. You're going to turn on us as soon as you can, just like your father."

He gets to his wand before I do; I'm still fumbling in my pocket. I know what spell is coming.

" _Stupefy_!" I hear a female voice say.

Yaxley crumples, hitting his head hard on the steps. I look around for my savior-I know that voice-and see bushy hair disappearing into the crowd. Of course.

Suddenly, the Dark Lord's voice booms through the castle. "Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters, will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Anguished cries and bitter laughter erupt from the crowd as everyone rushes to the main doors. McGonagall screams first; I've _never_ heard such a sound. The crowd of survivors joins in, shouting abuse at the Death Eaters, but Hermione's cry of despair stands out over the others.

"Silence!" the Dark Lord yells, a bang and flash of bright light speeding towards the castle. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

I quietly make my way to the back of the crowd of survivors. I don't want them to see me, and I definitely don't want the Death Eaters to see me. I want them dead. Potter's body is lifeless, and I can see Aunt Bellatrix's smirk from across the field.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," the Dark Lord says, "killed while trying to save himself-" He breaks off, and there's suddenly another bang and flash of light, followed by a grunt of pain. Someone's lying on the ground a few feet in front of him.

"And who is this?" the Dark Lord demands. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Aunt Bellatrix lets out a delighted laugh, and I immediately know who it is. Longbottom. I don't want to watch him get destroyed, so I scan the crowd. My father and mother stand to the far side of the Death Eaters, and I can see my mother scanning the crowd as well. I shrink back further. Hermione's in the front of the crowd of the survivors between two of the Weasleys. McGonagall is behind her, whispering something to Flitwick.

Suddenly, everyone starts screaming and I see Longbottom aflame. Then chaos. A giant staggers around the side of the castle yelling, "Hagger!" and the Dark Lord's giants rush at him, making the earth quake. Hooves, twangs of bows, and great flapping sounds of threstrals add to the clamor. Spells are flying as everyone is forced back into the castle, people falling left and right. Two of the Weasleys take down Yaxley a few feet in front of me, and Dolohov falls at Flitwick's hands. I force my way into the Great Hall and immediately see Aunt Bellatrix dueling Hermione and Longbottom. I send a Stunning Spell at Rookwood, who had aimed his wand at Longbottom's back, then another at Thicknesse when he aims at Hermione.

"How perfect!" Aunt Bellatrix laughs, a maniacal sound. "I get to kill a Mudblood and a blood traitor at the same time!"

I raise my wand, but two spells hit her simultaneously, right in the chest. People nearby scream as she falls, and three Death Eaters descend upon them immediately. The Dark Lord is screaming, raising his wand, then someone yells, " _Protego_!"

Potter appears out of nowhere and everyone starts cheering, then abruptly stop when he and the Dark Lord start circling each other. I scan the crowd, but Hermione is nowhere to be seen. Then I notice Greyback hurrying out of the Great Hall and immediately take off running.

"You're not escaping me this time, Miss Mudblood," I hear Greyback growl as I turn the corner.

Hermione is backed into a corner, her wand lying on the floor out of arm's reach. Blood is gushing from her head, and my arm is shaking as I aim a Stunning Spell at Greyback. It misses by a mile and he turns, baring his pointed teeth at me. "I know you were not aiming at me."

I slowly edge toward Hermione, my eyes on Greyback. His wand is hanging loosely at his side, so I have a split second advantage.

His eyes travel between us. "Oh, I get it," he says, a laugh that sounds far too much like Aunt Bellatrix's rumbling in his throat. "You want a piece of her as well. That's fine; I'll share. I'll even let you go first."

Bile rises in my throat as I aim my wand and bring Greyback to his knees. "I'm not letting you harm anyone else."

"Gotten fond of her, have you? Going to turn traitor like your waste of a father? Why don't you just kill me now?"

"Draco," Hermione says softly, but I ignore her, keeping my body between them.

"Kill me, coward. Kill me now!"

Before I can react, a house elf jumps on Greyback's back, letting out a war cry as it hacks at him with a cleaver. Blood splatters everywhere, and his body crumples.

" _Kreacher_?" Hermione says incredulously as I wipe blood off my face.

"No harm shall come to my Master's friends!"

"Thank you."

Cheers erupt in the Great Hall, and the house elf runs towards them. I grab Hermione's wand and pull her out of sight as Death Eaters flood the hallway. I hear my mother calling my name, but I flatten myself against the wall.

"Come along, Narcissa," I hear my father say. "If he's alive, he'll come home later."

I wait until the hallway is clear before I turn to look at Hermione. She's leaning heavily on the wall, blood still gushing. "You saved my life."

I hold my arm out. "You saved mine. Let me help you."

She wraps her arm around my waist, so I do the same, supporting her as we slowly walk toward the Great Hall. We're barely into the room when Weasley, Potter, and Longbottom point their wands in my face. "Get away from her!" Weasley yells. "Now!"

"No!" Hermione replies. "He saved my life!"

They look like they've been Stunned. "Really?" Potter asks.

I nod, but let Hermione speak. "We saved each other."

Longbottom goes to her other side and wraps his arm around her as well, so I leave her with him and in Madam Pomfrey's capable hands. I'm going to get killed if I don't get out of here quickly. I feel eyes on me and turn once, meeting Hermione's gaze. She mouths, "Thank you," and I nod, quickly looking around the room. Once my father gets his hands on me, I'll probably never see this place again.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, Draco, I was so worried!"

My mother embraces me, but I can see my father glowering behind her. "Where have you been?" he demands.

I don't answer.

"You turned against us!"

"Lucius, please," Mother says.

"He aimed his wand at your _sister_ , Narcissa!" He glares at me. "Explain yourself!"

I still refuse to answer, so he pulls out his wand. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"Lucius!"

His aim is right between my eyes and it's pissing me off. "I never wanted this."

" _Excuse_ me?" His voice is soft, dangerous, but I don't care.

"I never wanted to be a Death Eater, I never wanted to hurt people, I never wanted to watch the rest of you torture and kill people. Two of my friends _died_ because of the Dark Lord's orders. I watched Aunt Bellatrix torture my classmate right in front of me!"

"The Mudblood _again_?" Father rolls his eyes. "You'd be better off with her dead. Your grades took a massive hit year 6 when you were failing the Dark Lord's mission. With her out of the way, you'd finally be the top student."

The anger that had been simmering boils over. "The only reason I had that mission to begin with was because I was being punished for _your_ failure."

" _Crucio_!"

Pain wracks my body, bringing me to my knees. I dig my fingers into the carpet, trying not to cry out.

"Lucius! Your son!" My mother rushes to my side as the pain subsides.

"He is no son of mine." His eyes are colder than I've ever seen them. "Get out of my house."

"Lucius!" Mother is pleading now.

But I'm finished. "Gladly," I say, heading up the stairs to pack my things.

Mother follows me to my room, begging me to stay, telling me to ignore my father. "He will calm down. Please don't go."

"I'm not staying here," I reply.

"But I love you."

I feel myself soften, and she takes advantage, holding my hand. "Draco. You don't want to leave. Stay with me."

But the pain is still lingering, and that's enough to push any doubts away. "I love you too, Mother. Take care of yourself."

Before I leave, she shoves a pouch in my hand. "Money. You'll need it."

"Thank you."

It isn't until I'm far away from home that I realize I have nowhere to go. All of my friends' parents are Death Eaters; everyone is on the run right now. Nobody will come after my parents or me because I switched allegiance and my parents claimed they did. Snape is dead. I have no other family. Finally, I send an owl to McGonagall. I know she's going to be the new headmistress, so maybe she'll have an idea. I hate that I've sunk this low.

If she's surprised, she doesn't let on in her letter. She says she's talked to the other professors and that Slughorn is willing to take me in for the summer. The catch? I have to help repair the parts of Hogwarts that had been destroyed during the war.

It's an easy decision.

* * *

I'm actually nervous as I walk into the Great Hall for the feast. I'm going alone for the first time in seven years. Pansy, Blaise, Nott, Flint...none of them are coming back. I hear students whispering and pointing as I walk by, calling me nasty names, but I just keep my head down and take a seat at the Slytherin table. About half of us are gone and I barely know the ones who are left. We aren't getting any new students this year; McGonagall had decided that everyone should just retake last year because nobody actually learned anything.

I keep my eyes down as McGonagall clears up false rumors: that the Slytherins in the Hall right now all fought with the Death Eaters during the war, and that Snape was a horrible murderer. The second is a surprise to me; I was never told that Snape and Dumbledore had planned Dumbledore's death. Why did _I_ have to go through all that pain then? How is that fair at all?

Food appears in front of us, but I'm not hungry. I raise my eyes slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. I see Hermione, but Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom aren't around. _She's_ not lonely, though; she's the center of attention. Potter had done an interview where he credited a lot of his success in surviving and later defeating the Dark Lord to her. Everyone ate it up, and now they want every detail of their relationship. I've heard so many stories about how they're dating and going to get married and have three kids.

"Draco."

I jump, then look up. "What?"

Hermione shifts her bag to her other shoulder. "We have to meet with the Prefects. I gave them orders to patrol the train, but I wanted to have a formal meeting with them here. You weren't on the train; why weren't you on the train?"

I ignore the question. "You're talking really fast. Nervous about something?"

"No." Now her voice is high, as well as fast. "There's just so much to do. Full courseload, Head Girl..."

"Fielding questions about your love life, quickly becoming the most popular girl at school, and letting...who was that-Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein-hang all over you? Got a thing for Ravenclaws now? I'm sure Potter and Weasley would disapprove."

She looks like she's been slapped. "Thank you for your commentary on my love life," she replies coldly. "If I want your thoughts in the future, I'll ask for them."

I knew I had gone too far as soon as the words came out. "Old habits die hard," I mutter.

"Is he bothering you, Hermione?" Boot asks, coming up to us and glaring at me.

She smiles at him. "Not at all. We were just discussing the Prefects meeting. Draco is Head Boy, you know."

The distaste in his voice is obvious. "Yes, we're aware." He points to a far table. "We're all over there when you're ready."

"Thank you. We're ready now."

I let Hermione do the talking. The Slytherins might listen to me, but there's no way the others will. I see some familiar faces in the crowd-Looney Lovegood, Goldstein, that prat Ernie Macmillan, the Patil twins, and one of the Slytherins-but I have no idea who the rest are. I suppose I'm going to have to learn them.

"Draco?"

I need to stop ignoring conversations. Everyone is looking at me expectantly.

"Do you have anything to add?" Hermione prompts.

"Er-" Make something up, Draco. "Hopefully this term will be smoother than the last, now that everything is back to normal-"

"No thanks to your Death Eater friends," someone says, and everyone in the vicinity snickers.

"Er, let's not be prats and abuse our power-"

"Right hypocrite, you are, saying that."

"Shouldn't you be with your Death Eater father?"

"You should have been hunted down with the rest of them."

"That's _enough_!"

Everyone turns to Hermione. She's obviously angry; her face is bright red. "I'm going to tell all of you something. During the war, Draco saved my life. Greyback had disarmed me and was about to...hurt me...and Draco put himself between us and brought Greyback to his knees. He told him he wasn't going to let him harm anyone else and he kept that promise."

I watch the others as they take in the news. Everyone looks shocked, but there's something that looks like respect on some of their faces.

"I won't listen to these lies anymore. He left the Death Eaters, he saved my life, and I personally saw him attack several Death Eaters during the war. He was on our side, no matter how many mistakes he made before then. I don't want to hear anyone say otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Yes," most of them chant together.

"Terry? Anthony? Ernie?"

"Yes," they mumble.

"Good. Now go off to your patrols. We are going to have a good term. See you later."

I try not to meet anyone's eyes as they leave the room. Hermione's threat carries weight, but it's not going to stop them when she's not around.

"I wanted to make a point," she says, reading my mind. "I know better than anyone how bad being isolated is."

"Thank you."

I go to my dormitory, suddenly grateful that nobody wanted to share a room with me. I cast a _Muffalito_ spell; I've been having nightmares all summer and the last thing I want to do is wake everyone else up.

* * *

 _"No! Please! We found it! Found it!"_

 _The knife carves through her skin; her screams echo through the room._

 _"Let me have a turn," Greyback says, kneeling down. "Hello, my pretty. Not getting away from me this time."_

 _Her whole body shudders when he strokes her face. I turn my head away as he bends closer._

 _"Watch," Father says, holding my head in place. "Don't look away."_

 _I'm rewarded with a Cruciatus Curse every time I close my eyes until I'm sobbing on my knees. "Please stop," I beg. "Please."_

 _"Looks like I went too far with this one," Greyback says, using his wand to pick up and drop her completely limp body right in front of me. "Pity."_

 _"No!" I yell, grabbing at her body, my tears mixing with her blood. "Hermione, wake up! Please wake up!"_

 _Her head rolls to the side, almost severed like the Gryffindor ghost. I bolt back, screaming._

I shoot up in bed, my head instantly throbbing with pain. I lie back, trying to catch my breath, my hands on my wet face. I check five times to make sure there's no blood.

I spend the rest of the night pacing. I try to practice Charms and Transfiguration, but only succeed in destroying half of my room. I try to recite Herbology creatures, but those quickly get jumbled in my head. I even pull out an Alchemy manuscript I had found in my house to study it, but I can't concentrate.

I skip breakfast and drag myself to Potions. Hermione is already there, sharing a bench with Boot next to me. He's talking a mile a minute, but she looks as tired as I feel.

"We're going to be brewing a mix of new potions and difficult potions you should remember from previous terms," Slughorn says. "Today I want you to brew the Draught of Living Death. Begin."

I hate this potion. Even Hermione could barely do it when we brewed it in Year 6. I hear her tell Boot to shut up so she can concentrate, which makes me smile. Unsurprisingly, she and I are the only ones who brew passable potions in the allotted amount of time. Slughorn gives each of us 5 points for our Houses, but tells all of us that we need to start improving quickly.

That statement becomes a common trend in all of our classes. We're N.E.W.T. level students and our grades will directly affect our careers. I still have no idea what I'm going to do. Who's going to want to hire a former Death Eater?

"Please, Madam Pomfrey. I need to sleep."

"Draco Malfoy, I have given you a Sleeping Draught a week for the past month. I'm not giving you any more."

"But-"

"No buts. Go see Professor Slughorn. I think you need to discuss why you're not sleeping."

"But-"

"Go."

I sigh, but follow her orders. Maybe Slughorn will give me one.

"I've been expecting you," he says when I show up in his office. "Have a seat."

I do, looking at him expectantly.

"You're still having nightmares?"

I nod. There's no point in lying. I'd had a lot of them when I was staying with him.

"Have you spoken with anyone about them?"

I snort. "Like who? In case you haven't noticed, everyone here more or less hates me. They would revel in my pain."

His response takes me by surprise. "I was thinking that you had perhaps talked to Hermione Granger since the two of you are currently in very similar situations."

"I doubt that. She has plenty of people to talk to, even a new boyfriend."

"If that was the case, I don't think Madam Pomfrey would have sent her to Professor McGonagall because she was continuously asking for Sleeping Draughts."

"She was?"

Slughorn leans forward in his chair. "I don't know what the two of you experienced during the war, but it was apparently so horrific that you're still having nightmares about it six months later. The three of us think that it will do both of you a lot of good to talk to each other."

Has it really been six months?

"Think about it."

"I will."

But my mind is made up when I leave the room. I ignore his advice.

* * *

I don't understand how, despite moving slower than slugs, Hermione and I are two of the only people still brewing passable potions.

"You all need a lesson in following directions," Slughorn says. "So I've created a scavenger hunt for you."

"What's the prize?" someone in the back asks.

"An extra five points on your Potions N.E.W.T. for anyone who can complete the task."

Now everyone is paying attention.

"You''ll complete your assignment in pairs," he says, tapping a small bowl with his wand. Scraps of paper fly out and pair off. I'm paired with Hermione.

"Unlucky," I hear Boot say. "I would love to be paired with you."

She laughs, but it sounds hollow. "It's fine."

"See you in Charms."

"See you."

She falls into step beside me as we walk to Transfiguration. "Do you want to complete the assignment tonight? I haven't really been sleeping anyway."

"Fine with me."

I wait by the Great Hall for her after lights out. Our mission apparently lies inside.

"Students out of bed in the corridor! Students out of bed in the corridor!"

I groan as I hear a growl from the floor in front of me. Mrs. Norris. Then I hear Hermione's extremely impatient voice. "Honestly, Filch, we're Head Boy and Girl. We have permission to be out of bed."

He grumbles something back, and Mrs. Norris turns away, twitching her tail at me. Hermione walks around the corner, rolling her eyes. "Honestly!"

I smile. "I never thought I'd see the day you abuse your power to get out of detention."

"Only to thwart idiotic rules." She gestures to the double doors. "Shall we?"

The scavenger hunt is set up exactly like potion instructions, just specific to where and how in the room we move.

"We look ridiculous," I say as we crawl beneath Dumbledore's old chair on the front platform.

"You want extra credit, don't you?" she replies.

I sigh. "What's the last step?"

"There's supposed to be a piece of paper hidden below the left arm of the chair. Once we find it, we have to use a Revealing Charm."

"Why didn't we just come here first then?"

She hands me the sheet. "Read the bottom."

 _I have placed a charm around the room that will only allow the sheet to be revealed if you follow the steps exactly._ I toss the paper off the platform. "Of course he did."

"Found it!" She taps the paper three times. " _Aparecium_!"

"What's it say?" I ask as the message slowly reveals itself.

"'Talk to each other about the war. Or anything, really.'"

"No way." I read over her shoulder. "He set us up."

She laughs a little as she sits on top of the table. "It appears so. I take it you have been having nightmares as well."

I hesitate. I don't really want to talk about it, but she is going to know if I'm lying. "Yeah."

She looks out across the room. "Can I ask you a question?"

I hesitate again.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

That's better. "Okay."

"Back when you were really popular and had loads of people around you all the time, did you ever still feel alone?"

All the bloody time. "Not enjoying your newfound popularity?"

"Most of them barely talked to me before. They were friendly, but I was in the background. Now I'm in the center, but they don't care about me or how I'm doing; they mostly want to talk about Harry. Except Terry. He just wants to snog."

I make a face; I can't help it. That guy is really annoying.

She doesn't seem to notice. "Even Ginny. She's busy being Quidditch Captain and writing tons of letters to Harry. Harry, Ron, and Neville have Auror training, but they've managed to still write to Ginny, Lavender, and Hannah. Luna still talks to me, but I can't talk about the important things with her. I can't talk to anyone. Nobody cares."

She's blinking rapidly, and for a second I'm sure she's in my head. "I felt it too."

She turns to me, tears in her eyes. "How did you handle it?"

"I didn't. I bottled it up, lost sleep, got sick, and almost failed all my classes."

"Why?"

"Who was I going to talk to? Crabbe and Goyle? Pansy?"

She nods, wiping her face. "I understand."

We sit in silence for a moment, then Hermione speaks again. "Can I share something with you? Part of it only Mr. Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall know."

The desperation in her eyes makes me give in. "Go ahead."

"Before I left with Harry and Ron to hunt for horcruxes, I felt I had to protect my parents in case Death Eaters found them. I erased their memories and convinced them that their names were Monica and Wendell Jenkins, and that they had a lifelong ambition to move to Australia. I planned on finding them after the war if I survived." She pauses, taking a breath. "Mr. Shacklebolt informed me at the beginning of the term that they died in a car crash. They never knew they had a daughter."

It takes a moment to process what she told me. I can't even imagine how hard that must have been for her. She _erased_ her parents' _memories_.

"I just needed to get that off my chest. You don't have to say anything."

I nod. Good.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No way," I reply. "I'm not in the mood for touchy-feely stuff tonight. I'm mad enough that Slughorn tricked us."

She tries to match my tone, but her voice wobbles. "Well, I'm sorry that talking to me is so terrible for you. I'll try not to burden you with my 'touchy-feely' stuff again in the future." She hops off the table and storms down the aisle.

"Wait, I-"

But I'm cut off by the slam of the doors.

I bang my head against my hands. Why does everything I say come out wrong?

"Why are you so intent on pushing people away?"

I nearly fall off the table. "Who's there?"

A ghost floats in front of me. "It is I, Sir Nicholas."

"What do you want?"

"I want to know why you keep intentionally pushing away someone who genuinely wants to help you."

"I'm not!"

"I've been around this castle for a long time, Mr. Malfoy. Certain students interest me more than others. You and Miss Granger have both been feeling alone. The difference is that you choose your isolation."

"What do you know?"

"I know that she has twice tried to be kind to you and to allow you to open up to someone. I know that both times you became nasty and rebuffed her attempts."

"I don't need to open up to anyone. I'm fine." I get up off the table and head towards the door.

"Stop being so bloody stubborn. You aren't fine and you know it."

I slam the door behind me. Stupid ghost poking in where he doesn't belong. I "choose my isolation"? Rubbish.


	3. Chapter 3

_Please stop ignoring my letters. I miss my son. Your father misses you too. We want you to come home._

I crumple the letter and look glumly at the mountains of roast turkeys, potatoes, chipolatas, and Christmas cake in front of me. There are more people than I expected staying for the holidays; two whole tables are filled with students. Hermione's here too, a sulking Boot sitting down from her on one of the benches. I'd heard rumors that she'd told him she didn't like that he never took her seriously and never cared about what she wanted to say, and that she'd dumped him. I'd also heard that he'd dumped her because she wouldn't go to bed with him, but, judging by the look on his face, I'm inclined to believe the former.

I push my plate away and head for the library. It's become sort of a safe haven for me, better than my cold, dark dormitory. I sit in a corner in a soft chair and do homework or read books on alchemy, which is quickly becoming an interesting hobby.

The clock in the hall is chiming 2:00 when I start hearing an odd whimpering. I put my book down and listen; it seems to be coming from the opposite side of the room. Then a scream pierces through my chest, and I''m suddenly back in Malfoy Manor. I know that scream.

Hermione is sprawled in a chair, her body contorted, tears streaming down her face. "No, please. Please stop. Please."

I instantly start shaking her. "Hermione, wake up. Wake up!"

She clings to me, her eyes out of focus. "Where's Draco? I have to help him!"

What? "I'm right here. What are you talk-" Then I realize she's not fully awake yet. She's still in the nightmare. "Hermione, wake up! Wake up now!"

She sits up straight, still clinging to my arms, but more alert. She looks around the room, her brow knitted. "What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare. You said you needed to help me."

She turns bright crimson as she releases me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

Her scream is still echoing in my ears. "Are you...you all right now?"

She nods, so I get up to go back to my corner. Before I take a step, she speaks, her voice quiet, hesitant. "Draco?"

I turn back. "Yeah?"

"Would you...would you mind if I talked to you about it? It helped loads last time."

I hesitate.

"Please?"

She has that look again. I sigh and take the seat across from her. "Go ahead."

"I've had at least one nightmare every night since the war ended. At first, it was mostly about my torture, or Greyback and what he would do to me. Those were bad enough. Then the nightmares started morphing and I wasn't being the one hurt anymore. It became Ron, or Harry, or Neville. My parents. The Weasleys. Professor Lupin. Lately, it's been you."

"Why?" The question is out before I can stop it.

She shrugs and I catch a glimpse of _Mudblood_ as her sleeve pulls up. My breath instantly catches in my throat. "I don't know. Maybe because I've been worrying about you. You look even more ill than I do."

"I'm fine," I reply automatically.

"You're lying."

"I am _not_!"

She leans forward, reaches her hand out to touch my arm. "Please talk to me."

I jerk back immediately as her fingers brush the Mark, bracing myself for the inevitable burn. It doesn't come. "Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry." And she _does_ look sorry. "Please talk to me. It might help you."

I'm already out of my seat, backing away. "I'm fine. I don't need you help. I'm fine."

But her scream is still echoing in my ears long after I'm gone.

* * *

 _The fire is spreading fast; I don't know if we're going to make it out in time._

 _"Draco!"_

 _I look down. Hermione's holding her arm up, struggling to keep her balance on a teetering pile of junk. "Help me!"_

 _I reach, but our hands slide apart. "Hold on!" I yell, vigorously wiping my hand on my pants as I fly back around. This time we connect, and I pull her from the pile. "I've got you!"_

 _"Draco!"_

 _I feel her fingers slipping and try to grip tighter, to no avail. "Hermione!" I yell as she topples into the fire. "No!"_

 _"You killed her." Potter is suddenly floating in front of me._

 _"No!" I yell again, frantically searching the flames for her. "Hermione!"_

 _"You killed her, Draco!"_

"Draco! Draco, wake up!"

I shoot upwards, my heart pounding out of my chest. I look around frantically, but the flames are gone.

"You were having a nightmare." Hermione's standing above me. "Are you ready to talk yet?"

"It's not big deal," I reply, forcing my breathing to slow. "Just a stupid dream."

"You are either going to talk to me now, or I'm going to lock your legs so you can't move until you talk."

I look down at my legs, then back up at her. "You wouldn't dare."

She crosses her arms. "Do you want to take that risk?"

I glare at her, but she glares right back. She's serious. Neither of us is backing down from this. Finally, I sigh. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Why weren't you on the train at the beginning of the term?"

I sigh again. "Because I was already here."

"Why?"

"Because my father disowned me."

Her jaw drops. _"Why?"_

"Why do you think? I'm a blood traitor. I Stunned two Death Eaters during the battle. I raised my wand to Stun Aunt Bellatrix so she wouldn't kill you and Longbottom. I killed Greyback, one of the top Death Eaters, to save a Mudblood."

"But you didn't kill Greyback."

I laugh bitterly. "Well, that's not what my father heard. He sent me a letter at the beginning of the term telling me how disappointing I am, and how I'm weak and a coward, and how he wishes I would have died instead of Crabbe and Goyle because, quote, 'they were stupid, but at least they were loyal,' end quote."

"Oh, Draco."

I can't stand the pity in her eyes. "Anything else?"

"Why did you defend me? With Greyback, I mean."

"I owed you. You saved me in the fire and from Yaxley."

She leans forward, her gaze penetrating my skull. "Would you have killed him?"

I cradle my head in my hands, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know. I wanted to."

"Really?"

"I hated him. I hated all of them." I realize my slip before she can answer and push myself off the chair. "I have to go."

"Draco."

But I don't turn around.

* * *

The nightmares go away for a little while, but are back full force by February. I don't understand it.

"It's probably stress," Madam Pomfrey tells me as she hands me a Sleeping Draught. "You aren't the only person who's needed something for sleep and anxiety."

I turn to go, but she stops me. "This is not going to become a habit. You need to talk. That is what's been helping, correct?"

I don't answer. She's right about the stress; we're only three months away from N.E.W.T.s now. Our professors have been giving us loads of classroom work, mostly in pairs. Of course, nobody wants to pair with me, so, as usual, Hermione steps in.

"Nobody seems bothered by the war anymore," Hermione says one night as she transfigures a dinner plate into a mushroom. "It's like they all forgot what happened."

"Well, most of them weren't tortured by a maniac or forced to watch countless people tortured and killed," I reply flippantly, focusing on transfiguring my teapot into a tortoise.

"Is that why you defected?"

"What?" I spin around to face her, dimly aware of my teapot crashing to the floor.

" _Reparo_." She sets the teapot on the table between us. "Did watching countless people be tortured and killed make you defect?"

"Why do you care so much?"

My tone is harsh, and I wait for her eyes to well up, but they don't. "Why didn't you tell your father? You knew it was me. Why did you pretend you didn't know us?"

I turn away, tapping the teapot with my wand. Nothing happens.

"Draco?"

 _"What?"_ I snap, facing her. The teapot teeters again, but she catches it before it falls.

"I'm waiting for an answer."

"You aren't getting one."

" _Locomotor Mortis_."

I lose my balance as my knees lock together, but manage to brace myself against the table, shooting her the nastiest look I can muster. "I hate you right now."

"I could have used a full-body bind."

"I still hate you."

"So I have heard. I'm waiting."

"Being a Death Eater isn't as great as I thought it would be, okay?" I snap. "You thought I was cruel here? You thought I reveled in the pain of others here? It was _nothing_ compared to what they did. Use the Cruciatus Curse on every non-Pureblood you come across? Fine. Kill someone you know who's in front of you begging for their life? Not a problem. Hunt children with the express purpose of turning them into werewolves and recruiting them? Carefully cut people's fingers off with a tiny silver knife? Force people to harm their own family members?"

My voice is getting higher and higher. "I'm not like them. I'm a bully. I'm a mean person. But I didn't want to torture people. I did it; I enjoyed it. At first. But their screams haunted me. I never murdered anyone. I was too much of a coward. They talked all the time about what they wanted to do to Harry Potter and his friends. Especially what they wanted to do to Mudblood Granger. Potter was the Dark Lord's toy to play with, but the Mudblood? Everyone could have a piece of her. I couldn't allow it. I didn't want the screams of people I knew haunting my dreams."

My legs unlock and I pitch forward, putting my arms out to brace my fall. Arms wrap around me, carefully helping me to the floor as my whole body shakes. I bury my head in my hands and sob as the arms release me. The presence is still there on the floor next to me, but it's not saying anything or touching me. When my sobs give way to shuddering gasps, a handkerchief appears. I mop my face, blow my nose, take a deep breath.

"I don't think you're going to have nightmares anymore."

I snort. "No, you seem pretty intent on that one."

She smiles. "One of us has to be."

"Why? After everything, why do you care?"

She looks thoughtfully past me. "I don't know."

"Do I have to lock your legs too?"

She laughs, a real laugh, for the first time since the term started. "I honestly don't know. I just do."

The nightmares _do_ go away, which is good, because we have very little time left to study for exams. Hermione and I spent every evening sitting in the library working through piles of notes or in am empty classroom practicing spells. We talk too, when we need a break. A little about the war, a lot about our classes and other students. Nothing earth-shattering, but it's civil.

It isn't until the week before the N.E.W.T.s start that Hermione asks a more serious question. "Why did you hate me so much? Was it just because I'm Muggleborn?"

I put down my quill, taking a deep breath. "That's a complicated question."

She smiles. "I tend to like complicated answers."

"I had never met a Muggleborn until I came here. My parents had always taught me that Muggleborns were inferior and dirty, that they had stolen magic from Purebloods, and that they would never be as good at anything as we are. You know."

She nods.

"I honestly didn't have a problem with you when we first started school. I actually felt bad for you because you were alone and Potter and Weasley and the others teased you. Then when I saw how smart you were in classes, I was happy that someone could compete with me on the same level. My friends weren't good in every subject like we were, or good in anything really. You knew Crabbe and Goyle."

She smiles. "Then you found out I was a Muggleborn."

"Yes." I take a breath, ready to rant. "There was actually a list of all the Muggleborns in the school in the Slytherin Common Room. I didn't believe you were one at first because you were so kind and intelligent, but then you said you were in class. That was hard for me. I had to keep up appearances; my father would know if I left you alone. My friends would abandon me. The Death Eaters would never accept me. That was a real worry back then, before I found out exactly what they were. It was easy to be nasty to others, but you were so bloody _nice_. It got easier after you started hanging around Potter and Weasley. I despise them; I still do. I always had more of a problem with them; they were so bloody arrogant. It got even easier when my father abused me because 'the Mudblood is beating you in classes, Draco. That's unacceptable.' and when my friends were goading me into being nasty. I shut down the part of myself that had any ounce of compassion and made myself enjoy the pain. It's easy to hate a group of people you've never met. It's hard when you know them and when they're kind to you."

"'It's easy to hate a group of people you've never met. It's hard when you know them and when they're kind to you,'" Hermione repeats softly. "Maybe that's the key to ending hatred."

"I don't think we'll truly ever extinguish hatred."

She shakes her head. "A sad, but true fact. You know, even with as nasty as you were to me, I don't think I ever truly allowed myself to hate you."

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't." She bites her lip. "Remember when we talked about being in the foreground versus being in the background?"

"Yes."

"Being Harry Potter's best friend was really lonely. People tolerated me because of him, but, besides Neville, nobody really tried to get to know me. When Ron and I bickered, Harry took his side. It was always two against one. And Ron could be as mean as you were sometimes. I don't know. I sensed that same loneliness in you that I was dealing with."

"I was drunk on power. I had everyone in my House at my feet, ready to do what I wanted. I could ruin anyone's day with just one word. Professors were afraid to cross me. My father even told me he was proud of me a few times, that I was a good son. Obviously that opinion has changed now. By the sixth year, though... _that_ was lonely. My father was disgraced, so it was my job to save the family honor or get all of us killed. I bragged about my mission, but the stress of it nearly killed me. Nobody could possibly understand that."

"When Harry first accused you of being a Death Eater, I denied it for a long time. But you looked so ill and so scared that I knew something had gone horribly wrong."

"I saw you watching me. I couldn't take the pity I saw in your eyes. I wanted to lash out at you, but a small part of me appreciated that anyone even noticed how much pain I was in."

She smiles a little. "There weren't many other things to notice. Harry and I were fighting, especially after he nearly killed you, and I was trying to avoid watching Ron snog Lavender all over the school."

I make a face. Weasley snogging was always a revolting display. "For someone who claimed to love you during the war, he was a massive prat."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

My curiosity is piqued. "What?"

"He admitted that one of the reasons he hated you so much was that he felt threatened by you." She ducks her head, her cheeks reddening. "He found out that I fancied you our first year and he was worried I would go off with you."

I was not expecting that revelation. "You fancied me?"

She nods, her cheeks getting even redder. "I thought you were really attractive. Plus, like you said, we were comparable in intelligence. Though I suppose some of the Ravenclaws would have been too, had they ever bothered to look my way."

I'm not sure how to respond to that.

She seems to understand, and jumps a bit when she looks toward the window. "Merlin, the sun is rising!"

I look too, at the red reflecting off the windows. "I suppose we stayed up all night."

There's a weird feeling in my stomach as we head to our dormitories to get some sleep. Hermione _fancied_ me? I _never_ would have expected that.


	4. Chapter 4

The next thing I know, we're on the train leaving Hogwarts. Hermione's reading _The Daily Prophet_ , raising her eyebrows every so often, but otherwise keeping a straight face.

"Why do you still read that rag?" I ask.

"It started as a way of keeping track of what our enemies were doing after Voldemort came back," she replies. "Now it's just routine."

To this day, I still can't say his name. "Anything interesting?"

"The Aurors are still working on rounding up the Death Eaters. Mr. Shacklebolt has been named the new Minister of Magic and he's trying to ensure that Voldemort's influence is completely out of the Ministry."

"Noble goal."

She looks at me from over the top of the paper. "Your parents aren't on the list."

"Didn't expect them to be. My father will use that fact that I defected to say he did too. Or claim he was under the Imperius Curse. That's what he did last time."

She crinkles her nose. "That's despicable."

"Lying is better than being in Azkaban."

She closes the paper, laying it on the table between us. "Have you given any more thought to reconciling with them?"

I groan. "Hermione, we've been over this. My father used the Cruciatus Curse on me."

"I understand that, but-" She breaks off, her eyes widening as we come to a stop. "You may want to reconsider. Your mother is waiting for you."

I turn so fast my neck cracks. "Oh no."

"Do you want me to stay back so she doesn't see us together?"

I take a deep breath as we join the others exiting the train. "No. I am going to say a proper good-bye to you whether she is watching or not."

"Will you write?"

"Do you want me to?"

We're facing each other, out of the way of the shrieking First Years. She nods. "I do."

"Then I will."

She smiles, holding out her hand. "Good-bye, Draco."

I take her hand, smiling back. "Good-bye, Hermione."

The Weasley twins are waiting for her; she's staying with them until she begins Auror training. I take another deep breath as I walk over to my mother.

"Was that the Granger girl?" she asks, looking appalled.

"It was," I reply.

"But...why...?"

"Was there something you wanted?"

She seems to have trouble finding words. "I want you to come home. You belong at home with us. I won't tell your father that you were speaking to her."

"I'm not coming home, Mother. I'm leaving this place."

She instantly turns on the tears. "But where will you go?"

"I don't know yet. Just not here."

"But how will you survive?"

"I'll manage."

"I thought you loved me."

I sigh. I knew she would do this. "I do love you, but I have to go. I need to be something other than a coward former Death Eater, son of a disgraced Death Eater."

"Your father and I have your future planned!" Her voice is getting louder by the second. "You will inherit Malfoy Manor! You'll marry a Pureblood and have beautiful children!"

"With all due respect, Mother, to hell with the plan."

Her eyes flash with anger. "Is this because of that Mudblood?"

I'm angry too. "Don't call her that. And no, it's not because of her. This is _my_ choice."

"You're throwing away your future!"

I'm finished. "Good-bye, Mother," I say, walking away.

"Draco!" she yells. "Draco, come back here!"

But I just keep walking.

* * *

I learn very quickly how weak I am. I go abroad immediately, but living on my own isn't as easy as I thought it would be. I struggle to find work as my money pouch starts emptying, and consider returning to my parents. At one point, I actually pack my belongings and prepare to Apparate. Then I look down at my arm. The Mark has faded a bit, but it's still there. It reminds me of a past I never want to go back to.

So I settle down. I rent a small flat, work at a bank, and try to figure out what I want to do with my life. I write a few letters to Hermione, just to let her know I'm still alive. I date a lot of women. They don't stay when they see the Mark. I resist the urge to pack up and go back to my easy life. But something is still wrong. I go to bed every night-usually alone-with a nagging feeling that something is unfinished. That there's something I have to do.

Then, about a year after I leave Hogwarts, there's a loud banging on my door. "Draco Malfoy! Open the door!"

I nearly fall out of my chair. "Who's there?"

"Aurors!"

Before I can blink, I'm in an interrogation room at the Ministry. "What's going on?" I demand. "Why are you detaining me?"

The door opens. "Hi, Draco."

"Hermione?!"

She takes a seat at the table across from me. "You aren't in trouble. We just have a few questions for you."

"Then why was I dragged in here so unceremoniously?" I show her the marks on my wrists from the handcuffs.

"Procedure, unfortunately. I'm sorry. I told them it wasn't necessary."

"Well, I'm glad you attempted to defend me."

She smiles. "When is the last time you saw your parents?"

I'm not prepared for that question. "The last time I saw you."

"Really?"

I nod. "My mother tried a few times, but stopped after about a month."

"Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Why do you need them? Didn't they pretend to switch allegiance?"

"There are four Death Eaters still missing. We were hoping your father, or even you, might be able to help us locate them."

Suddenly, the door opens. "Granger, come here a minute."

She walks to the door and holds a quick, hushed conversation with someone who I assume is another Auror. When she walks back to the table, her face is pale.

I'm suddenly on alert. "What's wrong?"

"I have some bad news."

"Out with it, then."

"Some of the Aurors just found your mother dead in the cellar of Malfoy Manor."

She's talking, but it's not registering. No. It's impossible.

"Draco?" She reaches out, then pulls her hand away.

"My father did it."

"We haven't finished processing-"

"My father did it." Suddenly, I'm furious. "Give me a piece of parchment. And a quill."

She does and waits in silence while I write. Finally, I shove the parchment back at her. "At the top are all the Death Eater hiding spots I know about. Under that is a list of Dark artifacts that should have been hidden in the cellar. My father hid them there when the Ministry raided the house."

"I'll be right back," she says, picking up the parchment.

But she isn't right back. A man named Robards comes in. "Sorry for the hassle, but we're going to have to keep you here for a few more hours."

"Where's Hermione?" I ask.

"She went with the others to raid the locations you gave us."

I immediately feel nauseous. "How many people are raiding each location?"

"Either three or four. Why?"

"They're Death Eaters. They think nothing of killing people."

"They'll be fine."

It's the longest four hours of my life. Robards offers me food and drink, but I brush it off. I pace the room. I recite any Potions recipe I can think of. I list Defense Against the Dark Arts spells. I think back to the N.E.W.T. Tests. Anything to distract myself from thinking of every possible horrible scenario that could happen. I'm going crazy.

When Hermione finally walks into the room, she's obviously exhausted. "I have more bad news."

My eyes scan her body. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

She shakes her head. "I was on the team that found the Death Eater who had already killed himself before we got there."

I sigh as the realization hits me. "My father."

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Draco."

I put my head in my hands. It feels so heavy. "Can I go now?"

She looks extremely apologetic. "Actually, someone from the Ministry wants to speak with you regarding your parents' estate tomorrow, so it might be easier if you stay here."

"Stay where exactly?"

"I have a flat above Flourish and Blotts if you want to stay with me."

I hesitate.

"It's your choice, of course," she says, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I just thought you might need a friend tonight."

"I actually had a date tonight."

Her face instantly turns red. She looks down at the table, her voice soft. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

I cut her off, laughing a little. "It's fine. They usually don't stay around after they see the Mark anyway. I'm sure this one would be no different."

"It's faded a lot." I can still barely hear her.

I look down at her arm. "Yours has too."

She tugs her sleeve down. "Let me file some paperwork and I'll take you home." She turns, a horrified look on her face. "My home, I mean. Not yours. That came out incorrectly."

I laugh. I can't help it; the look on her face is hilarious. "I knew what you meant. It will be nice to have your company again."

It isn't until I go back to the flat I've been staying in that I realize how much I've missed having someone else around. For the last few months at Hogwarts, I was never alone. Hermione and I were always together. Sure, I'd had my fair share of women over the past year, but they never filled that hole. That feeling of wrongness went away when I was in London. Now it's back.


	5. Chapter 5

It doesn't take long to put my affairs in order. Quitting my job and moving home is easier than I thought it would be. With my parents' deaths, I inherit Malfoy Manor and all of their sizable fortune.

The house is freezing cold when I enter. It had always been cold, but it feels worse than what I remember. I walk into the main room and stop dead in my tracks; there's blood all over the floor. I look around hurriedly for a body, but, when I look back, the blood is gone. I hear screaming, so many different voices, and rush to the cellar. Nobody there. I bolt the door firmly, speaking softly to myself. "Okay, Draco, you're obviously just overtired from dealing with everything. You just need to go to bed."

That's when the nightmares start again. The Muggle Studies teacher in the middle of the table, dangling, begging for Snape to save her. The snake swallowing her body whole. Hermione screaming as Aunt Bellatrix carves into her arm with her knife. Goyle performing the Cruciatus Curse on a child and laughing as he cried for his parents. Crabbe's killing curse hitting Hermione instead of Goyle. Toppling to my death in the Fiendfyre. Greyback making good on his threats to Hermione while I'm forced to watch. Hermione lying, left for dead, on the bathroom floor instead of me. Snape killing Hermione instead of Dumbledore.

The blood and screams keep coming back too. After two weeks, I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'm going mad.

"Draco! Are you all right? You look ill."

Those are the first words out of Hermione's mouth when I meet her for dinner one evening. I try to wave off her concerns. "I'm fine. I just stayed up too late last night organizing my parents' things." That's not even a lie. I plan on donating most of their stuff to a charity. Ollivander is back in business as well, so I'm going to give him all the wands I found in the house. I want no relics of the old days hanging around.

If she doesn't believe me, she chooses not to pry. "I have good news."

"Really?" I tease. "You're usually giving me bad news."

She swats at me, but misses, and we both laugh. "Mr. Shackebolt offered me a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

I furrow my brow. "What could you possibly be doing _there_?"

"He knows about my interest in the rights of non-human creatures and what I've done so far, and he wants to bring more respect and unity between wizards and non-human creatures because we all belong to the same world. He wants me to help."

Wow. "That's a...bold undertaking."

"It's even bolder than that. He eventually wants to eradicate laws that make wizards superior to non-human creatures and Purebloods superior to Halfbloods and Muggleborns. I'm going to be part of that as well."

She's beaming, but the faces of the Death Eaters, and even non-Death Eater Purebloods I know, flash through my mind. "That has the potential to be very dangerous."

Hermione smirks a little. "It's no more dangerous than being Harry Potter's best friend."

She has a point but... "I'm serious. You are going to anger a lot of people, and some of those people are going to threaten you...they can hurt you, kill you."

Her face softens. "I know. I promise you that I considered all of that before I agreed to the job. Mr. Shacklebolt warned me as well. But this is very important to me. It-" She breaks off, a strange look crossing her face. "Are you against the changes? You benefit from the current way, after all."

"It's not that I'm necessarily against them," I reply carefully. "I'm just worried because those laws have been around for what seems like forever."

She nods. "All the more reason to change them."

Our food arrives, so I change the subject after we've both taken a few bites. "What else has been happening?"

"With me, or in general?"

"Both."

She smiles. "Well, everyone has been getting married. Harry and Ginny, George and Angelina, Neville and Hannah, and Ron and Lavender. I also heard Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini married."

I make a face. Pansy and Blaise? Really?

"Sorry. I didn't realize that was a sore subject for you."

"It's not, actually. Pansy was fun while we lasted, but I never saw anything long-term. Honestly, she was pretty dim-witted a lot of the time."

She smiles again. "It sounds like you should have been dating Ravenclaws."

"Too bad they all had poles up their arses."

"Draco!"

I laugh at the scandalized look on her face. "What? You know I'm right."

"Terry didn't have a pole up his arse."

"No, he needed a pole up his arse, actually."

"Draco!"

I laugh again. I'm really liking this look. "So, Ron and Lavender? How do you feel about that?" Saying his name feels disgusting.

Now it's her turn to make a face. "Honestly, I wish I wouldn't have wasted so much time on him. I was blind to how poorly he actually treated me. Plus, he couldn't hold a candle to you on intelligence."

Wait... "You compared him to me?"

She looks confused. "What?"

"You said he couldn't hold a candle to me on intelligence."

Horror flashes across her face so quickly I think I may have imagined it. "I said he couldn't hold a candle to me. My intelligence."

"You most certainly said you, meaning me."

"I think you heard wrong."

She's so adamant that I drop the subject. "So who else is left to get married?"

"Just Lee Jordan and Katie Bell," she replies, visibly relaxing. "Fred and I have joked that we're going to be each other's permanent plus ones."

The waitress interrupts us with our bill. I quickly look at the total, then start counting out money for it.

"How much is my part?" Hermione asks.

"I've got it," I reply.

"Draco."

"Hermione." I mimic her tone. "It's fine. You're actually doing me a favor by getting me out of the house."

"Is it that bad?"

I help her into her coat. "I was thinking of selling it actually."

"Really?" She looks shocked.

I nod. "It's just too big for me. Do you know of anyone renting flats?"

"Fred said they're going to be renting George's old room now that he's moved in with Angelina. You could actually work with them too, if you're looking for a job. They could use someone who's good at Potions."

"After everything that's happened, do you really think I would work, let alone live, with the Weasleys?"

"Thank you," she says as I hold the door for her. "I suppose you're right. Fred mentioned it earlier today, so I guess that's why I thought of it."

"Are you and Fred dating?" I ask. "You've mentioned him a lot today."

She laughs a little. "Funny, he asked me the same thing about you earlier."

I set that aside. "Are you?"

"No. I had a terrible crush on him for a few years at Hogwarts, but now he's just one of my closest friends. I work with him, George, and Lee sometimes."

"Hello, Hermione!"

Speak of the devil...the Weasley twins are sauntering down the street. "We've just come for a bite to eat," one of them says. "Looks like you had the same idea."

I notice her shift, putting herself between them and me. "We did! It's always nice to be able to catch up with a _friend_."

The emphasis hangs in the air, and the twins give a half nod before walking past us. Hermione is viably upset as we walk to her flat.

"I take it they don't like you spending time with a former Death Eater?"

"Of course not." The words are clipped. "Ron and Harry, especially, are livid. Apparently poor little orphan Hermione can't take care of herself."

I try to interject, but her hands clench into fists. "They weren't there! They weren't there when Greyback cornered me! They weren't there when the Death Eaters tried to kill Neville and me when our backs were turned! They weren't there when I was sobbing _every night,_ not sleeping, because of nightmares! _You_ were! This is _my_ decision, not _theirs_!"

I stay silent as she takes several deep breaths. "I'm going to hug you good-bye this time," she says, stopping in front of Flourish and Blotts. "I'm so happy you're home."

Hugging someone is going to be weird. The only person who's ever hugged me is Pansy; my family was never physically affectionate. But when she wraps her arms around me, it doesn't feel as weird as I thought it would. It actually feels kind of...pleasant. Good, even.

* * *

Moving doesn't make the nightmares go away. If anything, they get worse. The visions from before get mixed with visions of Hermione and the Weasley twin snogging, marrying, other things. I'm also being consumed by this overwhelming feeling of guilt. When I walk down the streets of Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, people who recognize me give me the nastiest looks. I'm deliberately jostled in crowds, sometimes even not in crowds. People call me names under their breaths or shout them from windows and doorways. I accept all of it; it makes seeing the family members of the people we killed hurt less.

Then I start donating money. Loads of funds were set up after the war to help survivors find missing family members, to rebuild where businesses and homes had been destroyed, to strengthen security at Azkaban so the Death Eaters can never escape again, to assist anyone who fought against the Dark Lord at the Battle of Hogwarts, among others. I donate anonymously; they might refuse the money otherwise. I donate large sums. My family's money had helped finance death and destruction; now it can be used for something good. The nightmares lessen slightly with each donation, but I'm still waking up sobbing, drenched in sweat, every night. Hermione tries to get me to talk-we meet at least once a week for dinner, but see each other often-but there's nothing she can do.

"I want to give you money," I tell her one night at dinner.

"Excuse me?"

"For the legislation you talked about. With Shacklebolt. I want to give you money. But don't tell anyone."

"But why..." she begins, then trails off, realization crossing her face. " _You_. I knew you were the one who's been donating all the money."

I can't deny it, so I simply nod.

"Why? You've easily donated half your family's fortune to all these causes."

"I have to. I have to make up for what they did. For everything my family and the others put everyone through."

"Draco!"

The sadness on her face makes me turn away. "Please don't look at me like that."

"You can't keep apologizing for them. What they did isn't your fault."

"It _is_ my fault!" I realize I'm shouting when people in the street turn to glare at me, and lower my voice. "It is my fault. I should have stopped them. But I stood by and watched, or worse, I joined in."

"And you've already apologized for your role. You defended us when it mattered. Look at how much you've changed over the past few years. We never would have been able to be friends before the war."

I still can't meet her eyes.

"Draco." Her voice is soft. "It's time for you to forgive yourself."

"I can't." It hurts to talk.

"Why not?"

"Because I still have that ugly scar on my arm. Because you do too."

There's a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Draco. I forgave you a long time ago for not stopping Bellatrix from hurting me."

I snap my head up to look at her. "Y-you did?"

" _Yes_. I know that you stepping in would have made things worse for both of us. We probably both would have died."

"But your eyes...you were begging me to help."

"In that moment, anyone would have. But, when I thought about it later, I realized that things worked out for the best."

I look down at my shoes.

"Also, people know that you have been the one donating."

I look at her again. "How?"

"Do you really think anyone else around here has that much money?"

That explains why people have just started ignoring me, rather than being openly hostile. "I guess I didn't think that through."

"You have helped a lot of people. I want you to know that."

I nod wordlessly.

She squeezes my hand briefly, then stands up. "Come on. I'm treating you to ice cream."

I try to protest, but she physically pulls me off the bench. The owner of the shop gives me a brief nod as he hands me my dish. It's a start.


	6. Chapter 6

"I still want to give you money," I tell Hermione the following week.

"Draco."

"Not out of guilt," I assure her quickly. "I really want to help."

She looks at me for a long time before answering. "I accept your donation."

"Thank you."

"How are the nightmares?"

"Getting better. Almost gone." I refrain from telling her that I'm still dreaming about her and the Weasley twin. It's less terrifying than the ones of her dying, but far more frustrating.

"I'm so happy to hear that."

I'm happy too, and not just about the nightmares. Hermione had called in a favor to get me an interview at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary in Diagon Alley. Mr. Belby, the shopkeeper, wanted an assistant to help him sell potion ingredients, as well as create different potions to sell. I hadn't realized how much I missed brewing potions.

As the weather gets colder and we get closer to Christmas, Hermione invites me to her flat to prepare. "You're really going all out," I comment as we decorate her giant tree.

"I blame Mrs. Weasley," she replies, adjusting the star on top. "She always has such a festive house and I always loved it."

"Are you going there for Christmas dinner?" I'm not looking forward to having Christmas alone this year.

"Actually, the Ministry is hosting a massive dinner and dance, kind of like the Yule Ball at Hogwarts during Fourth Year. I'm planning to go there."

"Is it just for Ministry employees?"

She shakes her head. "Anyone who needs a place to go. I was hoping you would join me, actually."

"Really?"

She laughs. "Is it so surprising that I want to spend Christmas with one of my best friends?"

"I never thought we'd be able to use that phrase."

"You and me both." She adjusts one of the candles on the tree. "Perfect. Now to wait on the cookies."

Yes, Hermione taught me the Muggle way of making cookies earlier. It's more difficult than I expected, but they smell really good.

"Sorry I've been taking up so much of your time," she says. "I know this isn't as fun for you as it is for me."

"Honestly, spending time with you is the highlight of my week."

She blushes instantly, biting her lip. I feel my face heating up when I realize what I just said, and feel my stomach flip when our eyes meet. We just stare at each other and she's _right there_ and...

 _Brring!_

We both jump about five feet in the air. I bring my hand to my chest, trying to calm my pounding heart. Hermione has a look of confusion on her face, her eyes not quite focused. Then she snaps to attention. "Cookies!"

"Cookies," I echo as she opens the oven door. "Right."

What in the hell just happened?

* * *

I'm nervous as I walk to Hermione's flat on Christmas. I hope she likes her gift. I hope people just ignore me at the party. I just want to relax and enjoy Hermione's company. But my jaw drops when I see her. She's wearing this incredible red and silver gown, her hair falling in loose curls over her shoulders.

She has a similar reaction upon seeing me. "You look so handsome!"

"You look amazing."

She reaches for a box on the table next to her. "Open your gift!"

I do, and pull out a stack of really old alchemy manuscripts. "Where did you find these?"

"Professor McGonagall. There hasn't been a demand for alchemy at Hogwarts in a long time, so she told me I could keep them."

"Thank you so much!" I can't wait to study these.

My palms are sweaty as she opens her box. She gasps, pulling out the red crystal flower on a silver chain. "Draco! It's perfect!"

"I remember you said you were upset you lost yours during the war."

"I was!" She flings her arms around me. "Thank you so much!"

I hook the necklace for her and we Apparate to the Ministry. There's a huge crowd already, which makes me feel better. I hang back as Hermione goes to find the Minister. Maybe I can be invisible.

"Draco Malfoy."

Or not. I turn around and find one of the Weasley twins. "Hello."

"I see you stole my date."

Okay, obviously Fred. "You seem to have found another one," I reply. I had seen him with someone when Hermione and I walked in.

"I don't like you."

"Clearly."

He glares at me. "I don't like you at all, but Hermione does, for whatever reason. I'll let her make that mistake without interference. But, if you hurt her, you'll be dealing with me. Understood?"

"Your threat is misplaced," I say evenly. "Hermione and I are just friends."

"There's more than just friendship on your mind and you know it."

Before I can respond, Hermione comes back. "Hi, Fred! Come on, Draco, let's take our seats. They're serving dinner soon."

"What was that about?" Hermione asks, looking over at Fred after we sit down.

"Nothing important," I reply. "Let's just enjoy our evening."

Dinner is good, though a bit boring. People's eyes are on us; I overhear some whispers and speculation. Nobody talks directly to me, just about me. Not all nice either. I'm happy when it's finally time to dance. We dance every song together, fast and slow. During one of the faster songs, I keep getting a whiff of lilac. Suddenly, I stop. _Lilac?!_

 _"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world," Professor Slughorn had said. "It smells different to each person, according to what attracts them."_

 _I had leaned over the potion, a bubbling mother-of-pearl sheen, and let the spirals of steam wrap around my face. The woody smell of my broomstick, clothes fresh from the wash, and lilac. I had no idea where the lilac was coming from. Nobody I knew wore perfume that smelled of lilac._

But here it is, right in front of me. _Hermione? Hermione_ was the third scent?

I feel hands on my arms. "Draco?"

All the Firewhiskey I'd drank to get through dinner is making me a little fuzzy. The lilac scent swirls around me; my heart starts pounding.

"Draco?" Hermione leans in. "What's wrong?"

Her lips look so soft. Lilac...

"Draco, you're worrying me."

I reach out and grab her head, jamming her lips into mine. I greedily drink in that lilac, pressing my tongue to her lips, begging for entrance. Her hands are in my hair, my hands are in hers, and we kiss for what feels like an eternity.

 _Crash!_

We jump, breaking apart, and I'm so dizzy I feel I might fall over. I steady myself against the wall as the crowd starts heading towards the doors. I guess the party's over.

Hermione takes my arm. "Lean on me. I'm going to take you home."

Apparating is too much for me; I vomit as soon as we reach my flat. "Are you going to be okay alone?" Hermione asks worriedly.

I nod, slowly sitting on the side of my bed. "I just need to sleep it off."

She nods, concern still written all over her face. "I had a really good time with you tonight."

"Me too." And, with that, I'm out.

* * *

My head is pounding as I slowly open my eyes. The light burns right through me. I try to focus, but everything is a huge blur. I fumble trying to unbutton my shirt; my tie is choking me. Why... The scent of lilac invades my nostrils and I'm immediately catapulted back. Dancing, talking...and snogging.

I bring my hands to my head and groan. How could I have been so stupid? We had a good, solid friendship and I went and ruined it.

No, it's fine actually. I can just play it off and say I was drunk, not thinking. That will work. I wouldn't have done it otherwise.

That's a lie. Some of my first puberty dreams way back were about her. Since the nightmares stopped, she's been in my dreams more often. I've been pushing my feelings down, but it's a lie to say they aren't there.

But I still have to tell her that. I don't want to lose her now, not after everything we've been through. There's no way I can tell her the truth.

What if she feels the same way?

I grapple with that question for days. I go to work; I go home. I avoid walking past Hermione's flat completely. I don't meet her at the bench for lunch and conversation. I lock myself away.

Then there's the inevitable banging on my door. "Draco, open the door. I know you're there."

I know better than to refuse. "Hi, Hermione. How are you?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you. I've been really busy."

She's not having any excuses. "Is this because of what happened at Christmas?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

She gets her no-nonsense face on. I've seen it a thousand times, but rarely directed at me. "You know exactly what I mean."

Here goes nothing. "Oh, you mean this kiss? We were both drunk, heat of the moment..."

"I wasn't drunk."

I sit heavily on a chair. She's right. "I..."

She sits on the edge of the table in front of me. "Remember during our sixth year when Professor Slughorn taught us about Amortentia? I said that to me it smelled of freshly mown grass, new parchment, and spearmint toothpaste." Her fingers are twisting into her skirt. "The third scent wasn't spearmint toothpaste. It was actually expensive cologne."

I look up sharply. But that means...

"I knew who it was right away, but I pushed it down. After the war, I smelled it again, and I couldn't deny it anymore." She sighs. "It was supposed to be Ron or Fred. Even Harry. I actually tried to make it Viktor Krum, but he doesn't wear cologne. It wasn't supposed to be-"

"Me," I finish softly. "Like the lilac."

"Lilac?" she asks, obviously confused.

"My Amortentia smelled like lilac. I finally discovered what it meant that night."

Her eyes widen. "So kissing me wasn't a mistake?"

I shake my head wordlessly.

"And here I've been hurting for days thinking that I finally got to kiss the man I've wanted to be with for years, and that it meant nothing to him. Dammit, Draco, why didn't you say something the next day?"

"I didn't think you felt the same way."

"You didn't think I felt the same way?" She looks exasperated. "I've only wanted to kiss you since the day you saved me from Greyback!"

I smile a bit. "Wow, we sure wasted a lot of time that could have been spent snogging."

"Draco!" She tries to look scandalized, but starts laughing. "Should we start now then?"

I want to, but... "I'm going to take you to dinner first."

"Dinner? I confess that I want to be with you and you want to go to dinner?"

I reach over and twist a stray curl around my finger. "Tomorrow is Saturday. Neither of us have to work..." I trail off suggestively.

She grins. "Ah, I see. We'll have more time."

I lean in playfully close to her lips, but pull away before she can kiss me.

"Draco!"

Now I'm grinning. "We'll have all the time in the world."


End file.
